


Meeting the Montague

by being_alive



Series: Tybalt, Tybalt [2]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic, Rómeó és Júlia (Színház)
Genre: F/M, Montague!Reader, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/being_alive/pseuds/being_alive
Summary: "Tybalt," the Montague says, crossing her arms and turning to look at him."Montague," he replies, stepping closer to her.---A companion toIn the Gardens, set in Tybalt's point of view.





	Meeting the Montague

**Author's Note:**

> Titles are hard. Also, I'm really not sure how this wound up close to 700 words longer than the original, but oh well.

"Tybalt," the Montague says, crossing her arms and turning to look at him.

"Montague," he replies, stepping closer to her. He'd simply been out for a walk, unable to sleep and deciding to take a walk around the gardens because he didn't particularly feel like going out into Verona tonight. He hadn't been expecting to find a Montague, let alone this late at night. Her face looks familiar, but he can't remember her name, though he hardly makes a habit to remember the names of Montagues other than Roméo and Benvolio, and it's not as if he remembers their names by choice.

"What are you doing here, on Capulet grounds this late at night?" He asks, walking forward until he's so close to her that she has to crane her neck up to look at him. The sight is almost comical, seeing a Montague strain so hard just to look upon his face.

"That's none of your business," the Montague says, and anger swells up inside of him because how dare a Montague, of all people, presume to tell him what is and is not his business?

"I think it is my business, as you are a Montague and I am a Capulet and you are in my home," he bites out in reply.

Instead of replying, she stands on the very tips of her toes and presses her lips to his. He simply stands there, frozen in shock for a moment before pushing her away.

"What're you doing?" Tybalt asks, his eyes widening.

"What if I was here to see you?"

"See me?" He asks, his brain unable to process anything other than pure shock at the moment.

The Montague smiles, stepping forward and saying as she looks up at him through her eyelashes, "Word of the...prowess of Tybalt of the Capulets has reached even the ears of the Montagues, so I had hoped to see for myself if it was true."

"Really, now?" Tybalt asks, raising his eyebrows.

A flash of worry passes across her face and he knows that's not the real reason she's here, but he can't fathom why she would really be here. Suddenly, her lips are pressed against his again. He stands just as still as he did the first time she kissed him. She pulls away with a sigh and asks, "What can I do to make you believe me?"

Tybalt frowns, thinking, his thoughts whirring around his head so quickly he can barely make sense of them. She is no Juliette, but he still finds her attractive, and he can feel a sinking feeling within him as he realizes exactly how attractive he finds her, looking at the way her dress fits her and the way her hair falls around her face. The smooth skin of her shoulders is exposed by the neckline of her dress and he's never found the jaggedly cut skirts some of the Montague women wear to be a good look, but the cut flatters this Montague, especially with how much of the skin between the jagged edge and the tops of boots is exposed. 

Tybalt wonders what his aunt would think, what Juliette would think, to know that he was gazing upon a Montague with hate being the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. He wants the Montague, and desires her far than he as a Capulet should, he realizes, so he says, his decision made, "Come with me." 

Tybalt offers her his arm and she accepts it. He then leads her farther and farther into the gardens, at first considering taking her to his room but then deciding that he would rather not risk being spotted with a Montague. He glances at her from the corner of his eye, part of him wishing that she wasn't a Montague, much like how he wishes sometimes that Juliette wasn't his relative by blood.

The Montague kisses him again as soon as they come to a stop and this time he kisses her in return. She grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him closer to her. He rests his hands hesitantly on her hips, not entirely sure what to do with his own hands because he's not entirely used to women being this forward with him. The Montague moves her hands to the first button on his shirt and unbuttons it and then the rest of the buttons. 

She pulls away from the kiss just when he's finally started to lose himself in it. Tybalt looks at her questioningly, but she simply smiles before placing a kiss on the side of his neck. She kisses down his neck, to the skin revealed by his opened shirt, down his chest and stomach until she reaches the top of his pants, at which point she sinks to her knees in front of him, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

"What're you doing down there?" Tybalt asks. He knows there's really only one reason she'd be on her knees in front of him, but he hardly dares to hope that that's truly the reason. She is a Montague, after all, so this all could just be a cruel trick, he realizes. He doesn't think it is, however, but he's not entirely sure he's thinking with his brain at the moment.

"What do you think I'm doing?" She asks in return, undoing his pants and pulling them down far enough to expose his cock. He's not hard yet, something he hopes she intends to rectify, and soon at that.

"Impressive," she says, wrapping a hand around his cock. Masculine pride surges within him, because even though he's aware that his cock is big, it's always ego-boosting to hear it from the lips of the woman he's planning on fucking. The surge of pride falls back down somewhat when she adds, "For a Capulet."

His cock twitches in her hand and she smiles a smile that's far too devious for him to trust.

"And you're not too bad looking," Tybalt states, unable to think of anything more impressive for once, "For a Montague."

"You sure know how to compliment someone," she remarks, stroking his cock to hardness.

"Now you're starting to remind me of Mercutio," Tybalt says, smirking, his hips bucking into her hand.

"I wasn't aware Mercutio had ever held your cock in his hand," she retorts, looking up at him. His smirk falls from his face at the mere suggestion that he and Mercutio would know one another in a biblical sense. Instead, the expression on his face is replaced with a blush as he quickly replies, "That's not what I meant."

"Sure it wasn't," she says before taking the tip of his cock into her mouth. A moan escapes his mouth as she swirls her tongue around him before slowly easing more of him into her mouth. He watches her through partially closed eyes, noting and feeling a surge of pride at the fact that he's too big for the Montague to take fully into her mouth. Instead, she goes down as far as she can, stroking with her hand what she can't take into her mouth. 

Tybalt's fingers tangle in her hair and he tries desperately to not thrust hard and fast into her mouth. He wants to fuck her mouth but he knows that it wouldn't be wise to do so, considering the size of him. If anyone had told him that someday, he'd have a Montague on her knees in front of him, he would've laughed and pushed them away, but now that this is actually happening, he finds that he doesn't mind the fact that she's a Montague, or at least not at this exact moment. She moves her hand in time to the movements of her head, dragging her tongue along the underside of his cock before pulling off and looking up at him, a strand of saliva connecting her to his cock.

"Why did you stop?" Tybalt asks, opening his eyes fully, his face burning hotly in both arousal and disappointment.

"Because I want you to fuck me," she says in reply, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her dress before standing up. He looks her over, from head to toe, gaze lingering on her lips, her breasts, and the skin of her legs exposed between her dress and boots, before moving forward and kissing her in the first time a kiss was instigated by him tonight. His cock presses into her stomach as his hands travel under the skirt of her dress and up to her underwear. His fingers hook in the waistband as he pulls them down and she kicks them away once they're at her ankles.

Tybalt's mouth meets hers again in a rough kiss full of teeth and tongue and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Part of him would be happy to stay like this, simply kissing, if not for the fact that his cock is painfully hard, so pulls away from her and all but growls out, "Wrap your legs around my waist."

She does so with help from him and he backs her up against one of the trees. He reaches down to his cock, briefly stroking it before aligning it with her sex before sliding it inside of her. She moans and wraps your arms around his neck while wrapping her legs tighter around his waist. Tybalt braces his hands against the tree as he fucks her, his thrusts causing her dress to ride up even further from where it's bunched up around her hips. It's taking him all of his self-control to not let any noises escape him, not wanting to moan the wrong thing, not wanting moan Juliette's name, even though thoughts of her are slowly taking over in his head. 

It'd be too easy to picture that it's her that's wrapped around his cock, hot and wet and tight, if he would only close his eyes. He can't help but wish for it to be Juliette that he's fucking, and not some cousin of Roméo and Benvolio, but at the same time he knows he would never defile Juliette like that, especially not against a tree in their family gardens in the middle of the night. The Montague moves one of her hands onto the back of his head, tangling her fingers in the dark strands of his hair and pulling him in to press her lips to his.

He can feel heat growing inside of him faster than it ever has, barring his first few times with a woman, with every movement of his cock inside of her and he tries to quell it, determined not to reach completion before the Montague does. She moans into his mouth as his cock hits a spot inside of her that causes the walls of her sex to spasm and pulse around him. Tybalt's lips leave hers and travel down her jaw, down her neck, until his face is buried in the spot where her shoulder and neck connect as he feels his own orgasm building inside of him.

He comes soon after she does, spilling inside of her while moaning a name against her neck that he dearly hopes was too faint for the Montague to understand, for his sake and for Juliette's.

The Montague unwraps herself from around him after he pulls out of her. Tybalt steps away from her, tucking himself back into his pants and beginning to button up his shirt. He watches as she looks around for her underwear and slides them back up her legs upon finding them.

"Now I see the rumors of your prowess were correct," she says, turning to look at him. He can feel his face heat up as pride swells within him. The Montague laughs.

"You are free to leave now, Montague," Tybalt says, not daring to look at her. She kisses him on the cheek before turning walking away the way he had led her before. As soon as she's out of sight, the swell of pride within him dissipates as he's left alone in the gardens, wondering what exactly he just did and why.


End file.
